Post by Kevin Dahlia on Jun 25, 2012 11:55:55 GMT -4
[/i]Conversation iece
C h a p t e r: IV -- Smokeout Conversations Traced In Air .
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There's a universe inside us all.
Secret dimensional noise, disregard direction.
Horizons follow entropy.
Disregard direction, our microstate feeds their energies.[/size][/font]
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June, 21st. 2012
7:44 PM
[/color][/SIZE]7:44 PM
»» |Rolling clouds bellow from Cameron's mouth. Tumbling through the air, radiating a cocaine white. Upon relinquishing the smoke, Cameron eases back into the comforting clench of his couch, placing a rastafarian tinted bong atop his coffee table as he does so. His eyes glazed in a brilliantly scarlet manner, Cameron feels exponentially at comfort. Intrinsic with the heir of content thought, circulating through his mind. Perhaps through the clarity of (typically) storm fronted psychological pandemonium, he can be enveloped in an expansion of the thought process. Define the concepts of his blatantly crossed mental wirings, that so lately have plagued him.| ««
[C][/color]ameron [W]olves: "Shiiiiit... that's good dank."
»» |Or perhaps the spontaneously firing neurons in his brain would cause a more casual and lacking-sophistication style of contemplation. Irrelevant and nevertheless, Cameron rested on the couch found comfortably in the centre of his apartments living room. His entire body was still pulsating the ache of Horrowitz' “White Light” manoeuvre off of the Meltdown ramp, two weeks prior..| ««
[D][/color]ahlia [R]osewood: “Jesus, Cameron. Some things just never change, huh?”
»» |Unlike prior encounters, Cameron had become accustom to the spontaneous and sporadic conjurations of Dahlia. Ascending his vision, he saw her standing at the opposite end of the coffee table, plopping herself into the confines of the lazy-boy chair. Cameron seemed unimpressed, but predominately stricken with a look lacking-care.| ««
[C][/color]ameron [W][/color]olves: “Medically prescribed, thank you very much.”
[D][/color]ahlia [R]osewood: “Aww, did you get a boo-boo? Want me to kiss it better? Kinda' sad though, seeing Benny get such a huge upper-hand on you like this. And to top it off, you haven't been doing too hot in your 'dream job'. Tsk tsk tsk.”
[C][/color]ameron [W][/color]olves: “Pardon me?”
»» |An exponentially stern tone had weaved itself into the seams of Cameron's verbalzation. Dahlia couldn't help but the relinquish a subtle giggle at the anger she so easily incited in her former lover. Previously slumped over, Wolves properly adjust his seating aesthetic. His blu... red, eyes daringly gaze into Dahlia's, a glaring sense of discomfort arising. Ignoring the enquiry presented by Cameron, Dahlia retaliates.| ««
[D][/color]ahlia [R]osewood: “Don't they say weed increases your chance of psychosis in psychotic people?”
[C][/color]ameron [W][/color]olves: “I'm not psychot...”
[D][/color]ahlia [R]osewood: “...Talking to your dead lover?”
[C][/color]ameron [W][/color]olves: “Fuck off. Don't try and change the subject matter. Did you say Horrowitz had the best of me? Better yet, did you insinuate that I'm doing poorly in APW?”
[D][/color]ahlia [R]osewood: “Yes, and duuuuh sweety. You tied two matches... in a row. That doesn't scream “best in the world”, or look good on your record pages online, or in your future resume. You know, for when you get fired by Mr. Diamond for doing so rubbishy.”
[C]ameron [W][/color]olves: “You're spewing utter absurdities, I hope you realize. Ya', I drew twice with that hack, but I was robbed of that first match, and Horrowitz purposely tried to severely injure the both of us. And he has the upperhand? I do believe I was the one competing last week, while he was out. And within that match I unneedly took, I claimed victory. I conquered Shane Borderland, a HUGE star in the APW.”
»» |Both his left & right palms firmly clenched the teetering edges of the coffee table. His voice had raised a notable amount. Having a conscious realization of such, he attempted to dissipate the ascending tonal level, before a neighbour in the apartment got antsy to the sever noises. Relinquishing his clasp, Cameron leisurely locked back into his comforting position on the couch.| ««
[D][/color]ahlia [R]osewood: “Credit given where credit is due.”
[C]ameron [W][/color]olves: “Thank you! Was that so hard?”
[D][/color]ahlia [R]osewood: “Don't get ahead of yourself 'champ'. The past is the past, and you have more pressing matters to focus your attention on. Like Shadow & Dita Morgan. Perhaps more important though, the fact that you're teaming with Horrowitz. After all, you guys are besties, right?”
[C]ameron [W][/color]olves: “Heh, hilarious. Shadow and Dita really aren't priorities though. I mean, I'm new to APW, and I'm more than certain I rank higher than them already. And Horrowitz... as much as I dislike the street urchin, he isn't dumb enough to throw away our match over an inability to beat me.”
»» |With a peculiar gleam of discouragement, Dahlia's gaze penetrates the instances of Cameron's utterances. Halted. Lacking all subtly, Cameron is hastily aware of the unsettling ambiance being articulated from the glare-esque stare. Rotating his head, abruptly, from left to right, all the while cementing his gaze on Dahlia, Wolves folds his arms. An unspoken invitation to verbalize.| ««
[D][/color]ahlia [R]osewood: “Is your head REALLY that far up your own ass? Shadow is coming into this match with momentum, and the real threat is here is Dita.”
[C]ameron [W][/color]olves: “Dita? How do you figure?”
»» |Currently, as Cameron extends his enquiry, his hands and primal attention is predominantly placed before himself. Whilst the duration of conversing continuously proceeds, Cameron had begun to break-up more bits of his cannabis, and initiated the process of rolling of joint, ignoring the bong in-front of him, and attempting to denounce the attention of the, assumption-based, figment of his dwelling mind.| ««
[D][/color]ahlia [R]osewood: “Stop playing the God-damn moron card, Cam! Dita & Benny have a 'thing' with one another. Do you REALLY think he is going to be okay with you assaulting her?”
[C]ameron [W][/color]olves: “Will you ever shut the fuck up, and just leave me well and alone? I already have this bout all figured out. I already have it ALL figured out. You said it yourself! The past is the past. And you know what? The past should stay dead!”
»» |His gaze, no longer fixated on Dahlia at all, had constructed itself into the fabrications of his joint rolling procedure. Even during the verbalization of the harsh words he uttered so condescendingly. Concluding the roll, deep blue eyes still locked to the joint, Cameron lights and initiates the smoking process. Upon the ascension of his vision, the room is empty. Dahlia, gone without a trace, like she was never there at all. Cameron exhales. Not just to relinquish the smoke infiltrating his lungs, but out of a general frustration and displeasure.| ««
[C][/color]ameron [W][/color]olves: “...If I have it all figured out, why do you still haunt me?”
»» |His utterances now a pestilence of arrayed quietness. His tonal level, severely decayed. What was once an overbearing frustration is currently an all enveloping self-doubt and disparity. As he solemnly stares off into the cast emptiness of his other-presence lacking room, he continues to smoke. The vicinity only being captured by that of himself, and his lady, Marry Jane.| ««
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June, 24th. 2012
7:44 PM
[/color][/SIZE]7:44 PM
»» | Omniscient distortion radiates with an overbearing prow. It's articulation is abrupt. Even disdainful to the hears, if it wasn't for the substantial haste it undergoes. The preceding grey, dancing static-esque particles seemingly dissipate momentarily. Within a quarter of a second-lasting interval, vision of a familiar vicinity becomes inoculate & irrefutably present. The confines of Wolves' oh-so-familiar home burst into full color and vision with the clarity given by the high definition camera. As has become accustom for Cameron, he stands firm, carrying an un-subtle heir of sophistication to himself, drenched within a grey, and expensive suit. A devilishly child like mockery of a grin smeared across his face.| ««
[C][/color]ameron [W][/color]olves: “Well well well. If it isn't my constantly admiring inferiors. All tuning in, once again, to not just see my charmingly gorgeous facial landscaping, but to hear me spew an array of intellectualized vividness. Deadly combination, I Know. Looks, and intellectuality. *Heh* I really am the dream figment you've always dismissed as just another Hollywood, paparazzi, photoshop cutout. But let's subside the vast greatness that envelopes & characterizes the core of my very being. Just momentarily. In it's place, let's us just review what the preceding week held in-store for us on Meltdown. Though an abundance of activities, NOT, involving myself were afoot, they are perpetually irrelevant. Evident, I know.
More so, two matters pressed on me, enticingly so. Lets us review that of which occurred, shall we my darlings? Initially; the substantially blatant choice. My contested bout with the returning, BAD ASS of the entire APW company. Mister, Shane Borderland. Ahaha... I wont deny it, I held slight apprehension when entering the match. Between Benny Horrowitz severely injuring me the previous week, and he being a highly rated contender within the company, what wasn't to be concerned with? The worry proved entirely irrelevant though. What I initially perceived as monumental task, was shown as a time wasted. Borderland, I can't quite comprehend what you yourself, or Jason Kash himself, saw in you. Let me just enlighten you with this warning; Stay out of my way.
And the other matter? my conversation with the crowd... though, I should rephrase this. My grand and great statements which despairingly fell upon deaf ears. The fact that my name doesn't instantaneously garner the attention of all of those whom are in attendance just goes to show how exponential the decline in basal intellectuality truly is within America. Though I'm SURE Shadow would disagree, and try to insinuate my homeland being inferior, I simply retort with a snort of derision. Absurdities.
But if you preposterously condescending Neanderthals wish to remain in your state of blissful ignorance to my blatant future supremacy, than so be it. Just don't complain and moan once I attain the mountains of my throne. This summit is nearing being scaled. And with the future defeat of Horrowitz, I think my opportunity to claim what is RIGHTFULLY mine shall finally be doled into my direction.”
»» |Blatantly infatuated with his own egocentric tendencies and self-indulgence, Cameron can't help but unconsciously forfeit a glistening smirk of condescension. Though, be it realized or not, his care for the matter would undoubtedly be insubstantial, based on prior tapping. Reaching his hand behind view of the camera, Wolves appears to adjust an object beyond peripheral vision. With his eyes fixated upon it, he momentarily halts his verbalization process. Momentarily.| ««
[C][/color]ameron [W][/color]olves: “On the note of Shadow... Oh boy, do I have some exponentially enticing news tibits to share with you simians. In a dramatically peculiar, and logical-fallacy aesthetic stylization of booking, I am to not only be paired with one, Benny Horrowitz, as a tag team partner for the forthcoming Meltdown, but I'm also set to face... two complete and total nobodies! More obscured than physical comprehension of viewing atoms. These preposterously unfortunate simpletons being, Dita Morgan, the APW's resident cum-dumpster, evidently, and Shadow. An exponentially deranged sociopath, who, while condescending, lacks any basal constructs of sophisticated though.
Now my children, you may be curiously pondering what the peculiar nature of this bout is. Me and Horrowitz despise one another at present time, so of course it would make sense to pair us as partners for a single night. Before I use my cerebral and intellectually cunning mannerisms to eradicate Horrowitz from my sight. Nonetheless, this isn't what lingers in peculiarity. Rather, the history between the OTHER three competitors is. Benny Horrowitz is 'seeing' our opposition, Dita Morgan. Dita's partner, Shadow, used to be intertwined with her on an emotional playing-field. Ohhh hootn'nanny, we have a humdinger here, don't we?”
»» |Resorting to emitting bursting arrays of laughter, in a way most blatantly lacking any subtle intent, Cameron rotates his head from side to side. His right hand, gently placed upon his forehead, covering almost the entirety of his facial landscape. The hilarity in the matter which he found was obviously altered for hyperbolic measures.| ««
[C][/color]ameron [W][/color]olves: “I just find the matter at hand funny. Especially due to what, not only that tramp Dita said, but what that bafoon Shadow inferred as well. Trying to best me on an intellectual level is a frivolous endeavour. So speaking on logical matters, to state that me and Horrowitz are at a disadvantage because of our disambiguation-esque chemistry is absurd. See, here's the thing my little sweet-pie couple. YOU are the one's at a disadvantage. Shadow, did you even comprehend a singular utterance that Dita verbalized? She is torn, to the most hilariously exponential degree. I heard that trembling imbecilic doubt in her facade of courage. Do you really think she is going to compete at full skill against the man she so blatantly desires? I'm not speaking about you buddy. I'm referring to my “partner”, Benny. It's almost technically myself and Horrowitz vs You.
See, let me lay brush stroke to canvas, and paint you a portrait of the reality to the situation. Me and Benny are the only REAL competitors in this match. We are the only two that truly possess a desire to be real athletes. Our records show it true. I have a win over Shane Borderland in my repetior. Whom do you have? Prometheus Grimm? Aha-ahahaha! Whew. Am I petrified.
And did I hear your insidiously preposterous, and illogical stammering correctly? Did you directly state that I was the “Canadian Michael Lively”? Aha. Let me expand your mind a little bit, alrighty? Besides the fact that the logic in that statement is backed by nothing, and I do mean, nothing; that 'insult' does nothing but demean you further. See, when you inevitably get eradicated in that ring by people who actually comprehend the process of wrestling, you're going to be informing people that you got your dumb-ass handed to you by a “copy”. How do you figure that's going to sound, huh? And even if this bollocks of logic was true, and I truly was a Canadian version of Lively... all you're saying is that I am the same skill level as an APW Hall of Famer, who is substantially ahead of you in every manner. WOW! Good one Shadow! 4 matches into my professional career, constantly progressing, and I'm already matched to a Hall of fame member. Jeez louise. I truly am put in my place. You state you already forgot about me? Simply a screaming insinuation of your utter belligerence and utter lack of basic intellectuality. Shadow, not only do you fail at insulting someone, but I'm going to blatantly showcase why you're the next target on Mr.Diamonds “firing” list.”
»» |Ascending his right arm, Cameron briskly runs his fingers through the confines of his short locks of hair. A look of substantial disappointment is articulated across as his expression. Disdain, infiltrating the fibres of his being at the present moment. He subsides the physical exemplification of such for a more megalomaniac based appeal.| ««
[C][/color]ameron [W][/color]olves: “Perhaps I'm being a tad bit hard on you though Shadow. It's not my fault you exemplify utter stupidity after-all. Besides, it's not as though your partner, Dita Morgan, the residential whore of APW, whom you failed to even remain with, didn't verbalize some illogical notions herself. I'll stop picking on you, I don't wanna break your heart before I break your face.... I'm, I'm truly sorry to all my adoring fans. That insult was rather, Shadow-esque. Childish and cliche.
But Dita! Sweety, darling! I see your love life is consuming the entirety of your professional career. Now, I know you state otherwise but, aha, it's rather exponentially obvious to anyone with half a membrane. Derived from utter oversimplification, your words echo the sheer illogical tendencies that you and Shadow posses as a duo. If anything, it's rather lucky you two are no longer a 'thing'. I'd hate to see the child that you two would form. The blackened cockles of my heart would ache with sorrow for the poor thing.
All the either of you seem to have as input is that you'll win due to chemistry. And just as I previously slated outright, that logic is blatantly invalid. *sigh* Why bother opening your spiteful little mouths if all the either of you plan on spewing is a blatant lacking of basal intellectuality.”
»» |Abruptly ascending his right arm behind the vicinity of the cameras insightful vision, Cameron firmly quenches upon the paper that was aforementioned placed. Abruptly skimming over the contents of the sheet, Cameron verbalizes a snort of livid intent, crushing the paper and tossing it out of view once more.| ««
[C][/color]ameron [W][/color]olves: “Tsk tsk tsk. It's kind of saddening. It truly truly is. Much akin to the audience in attendance at Meltdown last week, my opposition seems to posses a substantially diminutive awareness of my basal prows. But so be it simians. Just like Borderland, your underestimation of my capabilities is just another notch in the inevitable demise of your victory. Just ask my boy Shane, if not paying attention to me works.”
»» |Gazing delightfully into the camera, a substantial gleam in his blue eyes, and a devilish smile smeared across his face, Cameron winks, as the enveloping particles of black articulate profoundly once more.| ««
-- the following roleplay was an, Cloud Symmetry Production .
Word Count
[/b] 2,860 RP#[/b] 5 Vs Dita Morgan & Shadows Notes Sorry for the lateness in my posting. I meant to have it up earlier, but personal life enveloped me this week..[/font][/center][/font]
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